


Thirty-Five

by raven_maiden



Series: Meet the Malfoys [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And Neither Can Hermione, Cold Showers, Daddy draco malfoy, Draco is soft AF for his babies, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff and Humor, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Leo Malfoy Is A Precious Potato, Lyra Malfoy Is Smol But Fierce, Scorpius Malfoy Is An Angel Per Usual, Sexual Content, Stupid-In-Love Dramione, This May Be A Family Fic But I Can't Resist Draco's Boner, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, embrace the fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:54:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23597167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_maiden/pseuds/raven_maiden
Summary: “And might I ask what you got me for my birthday?”Hermione arched a brow, pressing her hips into his torso. “You might.”Draco massaged the small of her back. “Don’t be coy. The birthday boy demands an answer.”**It's Draco Malfoy's birthday, and you'd think he'd have some say in the matter. Then again, the will of four other Malfoys is hard to overcome.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Meet the Malfoys [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717768
Comments: 74
Kudos: 1235





	Thirty-Five

**Author's Note:**

> The world may be going to hell in a handbasket, but I'll be damned if I don't go out in a flurry of the softest, floofiest Dramione fluff. Please enjoy this story about the Malfoy brood, which is inspired by kumatan0720's gorgeous Dramione art. She came up with this adorable headcanon for Draco's birthday, and when I saw the[ art she sketched to accompany it](https://kumatan0720.tumblr.com/post/615122351869313024), I couldn't resist.

Draco Malfoy, aged thirty-fo— thirty-five, was drowning. 

The waters of the Black Lake were icy and merciless as they swallowed him, the pressure suffocating his lungs. He tried to kick, reaching desperately for the surface, but his limbs were leaden and useless. It was almost as if someone had Petrified him before shoving him in. 

Oh God—they probably had. And he couldn’t remember because he’d been Obliviated. 

Who? He’d been out of the field for years, but he’d made scores of enemies along the way. Pureblood terrorists. Petty criminals. Weasley...?

Something wet latched onto his arm, and his chest lurched as he looked down to find a grindylow wrapped around it. Its eyes flashed and mouth opened to display a vicious set of fangs before it gobbled down on his wrist. Draco yelped, but the grindylow held fast, smacking its lips as it feasted on him. 

Its bite was surprisingly toothless. 

More grindylows shot from the depths, smothering him in their tangling grip as Draco thrashed. The murmuring in his ears grew louder, as if his life’s memories were passing him by. The light behind his eyelids burned brighter as he sunk, the depths beckoning him deeper.

His heart beat violently in his chest. He wasn’t ready to die. He had to tell Hermione how much he— 

_Hermione—_

“Daddy?”

Draco bolted upright, and his forehead bonked into a giant pair of gray eyes. 

“Ow!”

A plunk back into the mattress as another pair of skinny arms flung around his neck. “Dad! Happy birthday, Dad!”

A hiccup, and then a loud sob. Draco’s eyes shot over his son’s chokehold to see his daughter's reddening face. 

“Daddy— Daddy hurt me!”

“Well, I told you not to wake him, didn’t I?”

A bustle of movement across the room before his daughter was scooped into her mother’s lap, her wailing visage hidden behind a curtain of long brown curls. 

“There,” said Hermione, tapping her wand to Lyra’s forehead and pressing a kiss in its wake. “All better.”

“But he—”

“Has nightmares just like you do. No more whinging. It’s his birthday.”

Lyra pouted up at her, sniffling. 

Scorpius slightly released his grip, and Draco reached a heavy hand to stroke his daughter’s curls. She glared at him, burrowing further into Hermione’s chest.

“Sorry, sprog.” His voice was rough with sleep. “You scared me.”

Lyra blinked, then grinned, instantly appeased. “Mummy said we should wait, but me and Scorp-us—”

“Dad, we brought your gifts!” Scorpius scrambled off the bed. “And we made a cake with Mum! Vanilla with strawberry filling—”

Lyra tugged at Hermione’s nightdress. “Mummy, I want cake!” 

“Not for breakfast, darling.”

“But it’s Daddy’s biwthday! And on biwthdays you eat cake!”

“Happy birthday, Draco.” Hermione’s mouth twitched as she met his eyes. He could only offer her a sleepy smile in return.

If someone had told him two decades ago that he’d end up _here_ — tucked in bed with the Muggleborn Princess Extraordinaire, surrounded their offspring— he’d have called them barking. And cursed them, for good measure. 

But today, the morning of the 13th year they’d spent together, there was no other place he’d rather be. 

This life, his life, was about her. 

And their children. 

He was jolted out of his thoughts by the squelching sensation of wet rubber on his right forearm. His skin was being gnawed on by a squishy lump lying flat on the mattress.

“Leo.” He plucked up his littlest grindylow and plopped him on the bed in front of him. Leo gurgled in protest, then continued to chew happily on his wrist. 

“Here!” Scorpius skipped over with an armful of horribly-wrapped packages. Draco raised an eyebrow as they tumbled on the bed. 

“Lyra wanted to wrap your presents the same way Grandma Jean does,” said Hermione quickly. “Isn’t that right?”

Lyra nodded. 

“Ah.” Draco cleared his throat. “Well done.” 

“Mine first!” Scorpius thrust a large, lumpy package into Draco’s lap. 

Draco smiled at him as he tore away the wrapping. It was a book. The heavy volume was at least several centuries old, judging by its mottled leather binding. It smelled rich with age, but its condition was otherwise immaculate. 

He blinked down at it. “ _Le Livre des Figures Hiéroglyphiques._ By—” 

“—Nicolas Flamel. Mum said it’s from 1624, Dad. _1624!_ ” Scorpius’ eyes were alight. “Remember how you promised to teach me about alkeemy?” 

“Alchemy,” Draco corrected. 

“Can we read it together this weekend?” Scorpius’ eyes were round and pleading.

Draco’s stomach twisted as he looked away, his fingers tracing the gold tooling on the cover. He’d planned to work this weekend. He’d taken off last weekend for Lyra’s birthday, and he couldn’t afford to do it again this soon. There was just so much to do—

A gentle tug on his sleeve. “Dad?” 

“Yes, of course.” Draco set the book aside. “Thank you, Scorp. It’s incredible.” He pulled him into a one-armed hug, as Leo was still gumming at his wrist. 

“ _Thank you_ ,” Draco mouthed to Hermione. She winked in acknowledgement, her eyes warm. 

“Mine next!” Lyra cried, shoving her older brother out of the way. 

Lyra had gotten him—

“A necklace,” she proclaimed. 

Made out of rocks. Hideous rocks.

“Wow. It’s…”

“Mummy made the holes.” Lyra’s cheeks dimpled as she beamed up at her. “But I picked out the rocks!”

“How nice of her to help,” Draco said dryly. 

Hermione nodded brightly at her daughter, biting her lip as she tried not to laugh. 

“Put it on!” Lyra pointed a commanding finger at him. 

“Oh— of course. Silly me.” Draco schooled away his grimace and wrapped the cord around his neck. “This is really—special, Lyra. Did you find the stones in the gardens?”

“No!” She giggled and shook her head. “In Dia-gin Alley!”

Draco’s eyes bugged out at the thought of all the feet that had likely trampled on them. Hermione’s shoulders began shaking in silent laughter. 

“Leo, _no!_ ” 

Draco jumped as Scorpius darted over and yanked the Nicolas Flamel book out of his brother’s drooling mouth. 

Leo’s face fell in slow-dawning fury, his lips parting to howl—until Draco quickly shoved a loose ball of wrapping paper in his fist. 

Scorpius scowled as he assessed the damage to the book’s spine. “Bad Leo! _Bad!_ ” 

“Hush,” said Hermione, hurrying over to him. “We can easily repair that—”

“He eats _everything!”_ Scorpius’ chin trembled. “I’m sick of it!” 

“I know, love, but he doesn’t know any better—” 

Draco could see Scorpius’ face begin to purple as Hermione attempted to soothe him—a telltale sign of an oncoming tantrum. Scorpius was an angelic child for the most part, but apparently his brother chomping on a priceless book had crossed the line.

“So where is this cake you made me?” Draco asked loudly. “I’d like to give my opinion to the chefs.” 

Hermione gave him a meaningful look as she stroked the top of Scorpius’ head. “Like I said earlier, we can’t eat cake for breakfast. But when your father gets home from work—”

“Work?” Lyra screeched. Two sets of accusatory gray eyes snapped to him. “But Daddy can’t go to work! It’s his biwthday!” 

Scorpius flung the book aside and leapt on the bed, throwing his arms around Draco’s neck. “Dad—don’t go!” 

Draco tried to laugh as Lyra and Scorpius smothered him in protests, but his throat was too dry. They were expecting him at the office. He’d told them he’d be there. 

“Tell you what. How about you light up the candles and sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me. We can eat it tonight.”

“Are you staying?” Scorpius’ voice was muffled into his shoulder. 

“I have to go in for a bit, but I’ll try to come home early.” 

“No.” Lyra jerked her head. 

Hermione sighed, then shuffled over. “Lyra—Scorpius—” Their grip tightened when she tried to pry them away. 

Draco gave her a weary shrug. “What if I told you”—he patted between their tiny shoulder blades—”that your Mum and I will let you lick the frosting off the candles?”

It was Scorpius’ turn to shake his head. 

There was a slight pull on his shirt. Draco strained his neck to see Leo staring up at him with his owlish hazel eyes, trying to figure out what the fuss was about. 

“Da.”

Draco’s stomach sank. 

“Da,” Leo repeated, more insistent this time. 

It had been his first word, and Draco had thanked every deity in existence that he’d been there to witness it. 

He’d missed Leo’s first smile—his first real one, brimming with toothless joy. The first time he’d crawled. He’d technically missed his first laugh as well. Six months ago, he’d been at work when Hermione had summoned him by Patronus. He’d stumbled through the fireplace to find his wife kneeling on the carpet, wiping tears from her eyes as a paper dragon flitted and danced over their kicking son, the walls ringing with the sound of his delighted giggles. 

Hermione was now going on her tenth month of parental leave, but Draco had only taken one month off after Leo’s birth. The guilt was a heavy, constant weight in his gut. He’d thought it necessary at the time, but now he wasn’t so sure. 

Three years ago, he’d left his job as an Auror and taken an administrative position in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. His work in the field had been keeping Hermione up at night, and however much he loved it, he knew it wasn’t fair to her— especially since she’d transferred to the Department of International Magical Cooperation immediately after Scorpius’ birth. And as Lyra became more independent, his travel had grown harder on her. So he’d bit the bullet and transferred. 

But being the husband of Hermione Granger and the son of an infamous briber had brought baggage to his new role. He knew what people said behind his back—the remarks about favoritism shown to his projects, or whether he’d lined his boss’ pockets. 

Draco was used to people suspecting the worst in him. It only meant that he worked doubly hard to prove them wrong. 

“Da,” said Leo again. “Da—da.” 

Draco’s heart clenched, and Lyra sniffed into his collarbone. Slowly, he turned his head to look at his wife. Her expression was reserved. 

“What should I do?” he mouthed. 

Hermione hesitated, then moved to the bed, crawling beside him. She wrapped her arm around Lyra and leaned her head on his shoulder, rubbing his leg with her free hand.

She kissed his jaw, and then his ear. “I think you should listen to the children,” she whispered. 

She was right, of course. Another unfailing habit of hers. After a long moment, he dipped his chin in a nod. Her eyes lit up, and she gave him a brilliant smile. 

It was stupid, really, how she still managed to make his breath catch. 

He kissed her forehead and took a deep breath. “Lyra, Scorp—guess what?”

“What.” Scorpius’ voice was flat. 

“Daddy’s not going to work today.” 

The room erupted in squeals. 

“Daddy stays, Daddy stays!” Lyra chanted, jumping on the mattress. Hermione snatched up a bouncing Leo and scrambled off the bed to safety. 

“Caaaaaaake!” Scorpius began running laps around the room. “CAAAAKE!”

“Settle down,” said Draco, though he was laughing now. “Scorp— listen carefully. I have a favor to ask.” Scorpius halted, his face flushed with exertion. “We’re having cake for breakfast. Will you take your little sister downstairs and ask the elves to set the table?” 

His question was met with a chorus of violent shrieks. Before he could blink, Scorpius and Lyra were racing out of the room, their shouts bouncing down the hallway. 

Once the room was silent again, Hermione shot him a pointed look. “That was a cheap trick.”

“And you’re surprised? I’m known for playing dirty.” 

Her mouth quirked as she readjusted Leo on her hip. “You do realize it’s seven in the morning?” 

“Mmm.” Draco watched her move around the bedframe. 

She stopped when she was just besides him, bumping him with her free hip. “I hope you know that _you're_ the one who gets to watch them once the sugar kicks in.” 

“Ah ah.” He tossed off the covers and swung his legs over the edge, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Can’t get angry with me today. It’s my birthday, after all.” 

Leo spit out the mouthful of hair he was chewing. “Da!” 

Draco grinned and pinched his little foot. “And might I ask what _you_ got me for my birthday?” 

She arched a brow, pressing her hips into his torso. “You might.” 

Draco massaged the small of her back. “Don’t be coy. The birthday boy demands an answer.” 

She laughed. “A night free of the children. My parents said they’ll babysit.” 

Draco went very still. His hand slipped lower on her silk nightdress to cup her arse. “And?” 

“And after we’ve had dinner in London, we’re going to come home and eat the dessert I made you.” 

He licked his lips. “And after that?”

“And after that, I’m going to put on your favorite nightdress and knickers.” The promise in her voice sent shivers down his spine. “And then I’m going to pour the extra chocolate sauce all over you, and after I’ve finished licking it off your cock, I’m going to ride you until you come.” 

His attempt at a seductive hum came out like a groan. 

Abruptly, she pulled away. “Time to get up. The children are waiting.” 

He gaped at her, then scowled. “Tease.” 

“On the contrary, I have every intention of fulfilling my promises.” 

“Ma!” said Leo. He frowned at the wet curls in his chubby grip, his face glistening with slobber. 

“I know, darling.” She kissed his nose. “Mummy will fix you something more appetizing.” She crossed the room, pausing at the threshold. “Perhaps a cold shower is in order?” And with a cheeky wink, she was gone. 

“You’re not keeping me any younger, Granger,” Draco called after her. 

He stood, swearing under his breath at the painful straining in his trousers. A bit of freezing water was definitely in order. Still, he couldn’t help but grin. 

Draco Malfoy, aged thirty-five, was surely the luckiest bastard in the world.

**

Art by kumatan0720 😭💕

[ ](https://imgur.com/xpPDY64)

[ ](https://imgur.com/YgOOYgo)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed, lovelies. Shout out to kumatan0720 for being the talented, generous angel that she is, and for warming so many hearts during this challenging time. Please give her all the love because she truly deserves it. 😭
> 
> We'd love to know what you think, if you're so inclined! 
> 
> Follow me on [ Tumblr ](https://raven-maiden.tumblr.com)! ❤️ 
> 
> Follow kumatan on [ Tumblr ](https://kumatan0720.tumblr.com/)!


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